


Understand my silences (and understand my words)

by kenmaken



Category: Fullmetal Alchemist - All Media Types, Fullmetal Alchemist: Brotherhood & Manga
Genre: Basically their relationship through the years, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Is there even a tag for that, idk help me
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-06
Updated: 2016-09-06
Packaged: 2018-08-13 06:04:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,391
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7965412
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kenmaken/pseuds/kenmaken
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p></p><blockquote>
  <p>“<em>Promise me you’ll make of Amestris a better place, please.</em>”<br/>It's a silent but clear sentence, and it’s at his twenty years that Roy learns how to understand Riza’s unspoken messages.<br/>“I promise it.”	</p>
</blockquote><br/>(Or: how Roy always understands Riza's silences and how their relationship changed through the years.)
            </blockquote>





	Understand my silences (and understand my words)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [crosspolination](https://archiveofourown.org/users/crosspolination/gifts).



> the title is from a whatsapp status i found on google lmao  
> also, this is a translation (i made) of a fic i wrote for kari a few months ago for her birthday, ts.
> 
> ~Disclaimer: FMA isn’t mine, because I’m not creative enough to make such a great story as Arakawa-sensei, lmao

Riza stays at a prudent distance from her father’s apprentice; he reads a book, sitting on one of the ends of the couch that is in the little hall of the house, while she studies for her own tests on the other side.

Sometimes, her brown eyes wander around and notice that the boy’s skin is pale, with dark eye bags signal of lack of sleep, and she smiles briefly, thinking that persons like him are her favorite ones; those who never give up and pursue their goals like there’s no tomorrow.

Actually, considering the situation where everyone is, there might be no future for them.

“Coffee or tea?” she asks, still writing with her pen. The apprentice startles, but quickly flashes a proud grin at Riza, like it was on purpose.

She can almost feel the « _that did **not** happen_ » from Roy Mustang.

“Coffee, please.”

“You should sleep; do you know that, Mister Mustang?” Riza’s father has taught her to be polite with everyone, and he doesn’t seem used to being treated like that.

She once heard that he grew up surrounded by sisters that didn’t precisely care about talking pretty in front of Madame Christian’s nephew.

“Of course I know, Miss Hawkeye,” Roy replies, stretching his arms and resting his elbows on top of his knees. His eyes have a sparkle of fun that Riza doesn’t miss, “though, you have to understand that your father is very strict and I want to learn. Plus, having such a beautiful young woman like you all day would take the sleep from anyone, don’t you think?”

Riza’s cheeks turn red and she frowns.                        

“Then you should realize that you’re reading the wrong lesson, instead of me,” Roy groans as Riza laughs and walks towards the kitchen to make the coffee.

 

* * *

 

Berthold Hawkeye has died.

Riza is about to have eighteen years and everything seems a little bit darker this time; Roy helped with the costs of the funeral and says, not without getting embarrassed later, that he wants to change Amestris and protect the people he loves—then, Riza understands that she’s one of those persons.

The tattoo on her back is the key to his dream and they both know it, so they stay close in silence as Roy deciphers the secrets of the fire alchemy in the hall of the Hawkeye household.

Roy’s fingers treat her carefully, as she’s made of porcelain, and Riza ignores the chills that they cause.

She’s the tool that will help him to fulfill his dreams—she thinks, with the short blond hair covering her face from Roy’s eyes.

The phone in the house sounds and she stands up, putting on the blouse again and attending the call; it’s a man that talks about how valuable was her father for the military and that he had a wonderful talent for alchemy.

Riza hangs up before he can finish his rambling, feeling broken and hollow. They all say how Berthold was a lot of things, but none of them even bothered to go to the memorial service.

“They’re hypocrites,” she blurts, crouched on the wooden floor with tears streaming down her face.

What will she do against that world outside of the little town where she has lived for all this time?

Meanwhile, Roy is panicking, mostly because he doesn’t know what to do when a woman cries.

So he prefers to pull Riza against his chest, hugging her and leaving the young woman cry on his shoulder. 

“ _Promise me you’ll make of Amestris a better place, please._ ”

It’s a silent but clear sentence, and it’s at his twenty years that Roy learns how to understand Riza’s unspoken messages.

“I promise it.”      

 

* * *

 

It’s the last day at Ishbal and Riza is sitting next to Roy Mustang, a State Alchemist that is labeled as a « _great destruction weapon_ ».

She smiles softly, feeling the warmth of the fire reaching her and the presence of the man that feels like a hopeless killer lulling her to sleep.

She explains again that killers don’t have remorse. His eyes shine a little bit more and a weak smile is placed on his lips.

Roy doesn’t have his gloves on, and Riza thinks that those hands aren’t death or destruction, but gentleness and care.

The memory of him burning the tattoo on her back is fresh, and probably will never go. The bandages are tight around her chest and the ointment calms the pain a little—only the physical, though.

“Your hands are full with calluses,” says the Major with a distant look, the screams surely playing over and over again in his head.

Their ideals have been tainted—things weren’t as they thought at the beginning, but they have no moral to criticize the militaries that turned out to be assassins with no compassion.

“Those were three years at the academy, sir,” she answers, looking at the ground. “My superiors say I’m the best sniper they’ve seen in a long time.”

“I’m terrible with weapons,” Roy laughs and Riza notices that she had a really long time without hearing him laugh with such an honesty. “I don’t understand how I passed the tests.”

His fingers brush hers and a shoulder covered with the thick jacket of the uniform collides with Riza’s.

They don’t precisely care that Maes is watching them from the tents with malice; she wants to enjoy this silent company before they have to take separate ways again.

“ _The promise still stands?_ ”

“Of course it does, cadet.”

The pearl earrings that he gave her when she turned sixteen shine on her ears, almost unnoticeable, just like the pleased smile Roy made when he saw them.

 

* * *

 

“What do you have there, sir?” Riza interrogates, feeling the fast rattle of the train in the rails as they travel to Resembool, since they received a report of two talented alchemists in the town. It’s always a relief to go to calmer places, where the war hasn’t appeared in all its disgraceful glory.

“It’s a photo of Elicia,” Roy’s brows are furrowed with irritation and Riza can’t help but laugh quietly at her superior’s expression.

Roy doesn’t say anything, though, mostly because he’s used to Riza’s unvoiced mock and scolds.

“He probably left it in my pocket when he hugged me to say goodbye,” he continues rolling his eyes briefly.

“Elicia’s photos are miraculous. They give good luck. You should know that,” he scoffs at her answer, stretching on the seat that he insisted on sharing with Riza. “There’s also a young woman searching for you in the hallway, sir.”

Roy opens one of his eyes and makes a disgruntled sound.

“She talked to me fifteen minutes ago, Lieutenant.”

“Won’t you go and flirt with her?”                                

“You’re still a woman, Hawkeye. It would be disrespectful to go with another, being with you from the beginning.”

“Are you sure of that?” Riza arches an eyebrow, skeptical, and her company nods solemnly.

“A true gentleman would never do that.”

“ _It wouldn’t be the first time,_ ” The Lieutenant squints and Roy flinches.

“That was _one_ time and her purse _fell._ ”

“Do whatever you want, sir.”

Roy seems happy with that answer and rests his head on Riza’s shoulder, trying to get some sleep hours before they reach their destiny—because he’s twenty four and still doesn’t sleep enough.

The young woman in the hallway swallows hard and goes, angry, murmuring something about how «the military women are always absolutely imprudent», while Riza tries to ignore her, preferring to stay still so she doesn’t disturbs Roy’s dreams.

 

* * *

  

On the return trip Riza is stunned, even when the last time they saw the Elric Brothers was two days ago.

She still remembers the little friend of the brothers, Winry Rockbell, and a lump takes place in her throat, as she rests her head against the window of the train while Roy signs a few papers that she prepared with time—mostly because now he’s cornered and can’t run away from his responsibilities.

“I can’t believe it,” Riza mumbles, the tone of her voice high enough to Roy to listen to her, “they’re two _children_.”

“But they have a conviction I haven’t seen in a lot of adults,” The Alchemist answers, taking scrawled notes that he probably won’t be able to read later. “I just gave them a viable solution to get the brothers out of that spiral of suffering.”

“ _Poetic_ ,” Riza thinks, but instead says, “Edward is going to take your place as the youngest State Alchemist, Colonel,” And searches for more papers from her suitcase, smiling softly when Roy winces.

“If he wants to take it, he’s free to do so,” The man puts down his pen for a moment, looking at Riza. “By the way, I noticed that you were talking with their friend, what did she tell you?”

“Her parents were in Ishbal,” There’s a spark of acknowledge in his eyes and Riza takes it as a signal to go on. “An ishbalian murdered them. They were the Rockbells, you heard Maes talking about it, right, sir?”

“Two doctors killed by one of their patients. I wasn’t expecting to hear that again,” The gloved fingers of the Colonel intertwine under his chin and he makes a gesture to Riza to keep talking.

“She doesn’t want us to take Edward and Alphonse away from them,” Riza sighs, adjusting the weapon in the pocket of her jacket. The brown eyes widen slightly when she seems to remember something important. “Also, sir, I saw her hair and I’m considering leaving mine grow a bit.”

“I’ll wait for that moment, Lieutenant.”

“ _I thought you preferred my short hair._ ”

“You know, a change is always welcome.”

 

* * *

 

 “Elizabeth, I must say that I really need to see you today,” Roy’s voice sounds unrecognizable, and for a short moment she forgets that this is an undercover mission.

And that she’s Elizabeth.

And that Roy would _never_ say things like those in front of his subordinates, (at least, not on purpose).

“Really? Thanks, Roy!” Talking without the formality feels unknown in her lips. “Though I have no words to describe how I feel, I’m really sorry.”

Roy laughs and someone in the office complains about how cheesy they sound.

“We’ll go to the diner as always, Eliza?” The Alchemist asks and Riza knows that he’s making that shit eating grin that she hates.

“I’m sorry, sweetheart. I can’t! I’m busy doing a job for my boss. I told you about him. He’s a womanizer and _never_ does his paperwork on time. Can you believe that he wants to see me in a miniskirt?”

The man huffs, indignant, and the Lieutenant knows that she made him blush.

“He probably has his reasons, Eli—” Riza hangs up without giving him the chance of finishing his sentence, and instantly knows that she’ll have to excuse herself later.

However, she holds the binoculars and keeps watching the objective, feeling the faint smell of Roy’s cologne in her jacket.

  

* * *

                                                      

Visiting Hughes has turned into a routine without they really wanting it to; Riza every morning takes Black Hayate out for a walk and Roy waits for her outside of the building where the First Lieutenant lives.

The stone is decorated with flowers—lilies, if Riza isn’t wrong—and the Colonel leaves another bouquet, a little more fresh than the other that’s already dying.

“Those are from Gracia,” Roy murmurs, low voice as he smiles softly. “Damn it, Maes, when you get married, the last thing you’re supposed to do is to make your wife cry.”

“The Colonel is right.”

Silence answers to them and a soft breeze moves Riza’s blond hair. Black Hayate is sitting on a few leafs that have fallen to the ground.

“Yesterday Elicia was talking with two boys, can you believe it?” he asks, hands in the pockets of his pantaloon. “I scared them away, though. I know that my best friend would’ve hated that.”

Going to the cemetery, on the contrary of a few people may think, doesn’t cause them sadness or sorrow, but conviction to keep fighting.

When he lost Maes he didn’t only lose a soldier—he was a friend, and Roy knows that it could happen again.

Roy can lose Riza and he _can’t_ afford that.

“ _Colonel, is time to go_.”

“Okay, let’s go, Lieutenant.”

“ _I’m sure that he’s happy that you’re protecting his daughter, sir._ ”

“I’m sure of that, too.”

“ _You have to do paperwork_.”

“Hawkeye, you’re asking too much.”

 

* * *

 

 A week after the Promised Day, Hawkeye is lying down on a hospital bed, with bandages covering her neck and the Colonel complaining about a weird aroma of cinnamon that doesn’t leave him study in peace.

It’s then when Riza stands up, not caring enough about the needles that were performing her skin or the beep of the machine, sitting besides her superior, who tenses instantly.

“Hawkeye?”

“What do you need, Colonel?”

“Can I braid your hair?”

“As you prefer, sir.”

Roy insists in that the lost of his sight is something predetermined, a collateral effect destined to happen.

His bodyguard, however, doesn’t say anything about the way his brows furrow when he wakes up in the morning and realizes that he’s still submerged in darkness.

Mustang’s fingers wander among the blond locks, dividing them to form the easiest kind of braid and the only one he knows how to do—his sisters used to ask him all the time when he was young.

“Is it okay?” he asks after a few minutes, raising an eyebrow towards the woman sitting between his legs, (and for the Truth’s sake, if a nurse comes in he’s going to get the biggest scold in his life).

Riza smiles, softly.

“For me, all the things you do are beautiful.”

“Not everything, Lieutenant.”

“I was referring to the things that Roy Mustang does, sir, not the Flame Alchemist.”

“So?”

“What you do for everybody, Roy, is wonderful.”

Roy blushes and Riza doesn’t need to turn around to know it. She loves to be the only one that provokes those reactions on Roy Mustang.

“Well, if I do it, is because you’re always bothering me, Riza.”

It doesn’t matter that he basically called her strict and bossy, because when the Colonel (or, well, the Brigadier, as Grumman said the last time he came to visit) says her name, smiling with fondness in his factions, is a relief—it means that he isn’t lost at all, that he just took the wrong way and it’s Riza’s job to kick him to the right one.

“I feel like I lied to Envy about the use of the formality when we’re alone.”

“Technically, we’re not alone. Black Hayate is sleeping under your bed.”

Riza raises her eyebrows, noting that, _yes_ , in fact her loyal dog _is_ there.

“Fuery let him in. Are you surprised, Riza?”

“ _Not as I will when you make your promise a reality._ ”

“There’s time for that,” His lack of sight doesn’t stop him from deciphering Riza’s unspoken messages; after all, he learnt to understand her silences.

 

* * *

  

It’s five in the morning and Riza hasn’t slept at all since yesterday; the doctor Marcoh made the treatment with the philosopher’s stone during the night, before Mustang went to sleep, and it’s expected to see the results when he wakes up.

The sofa is comfortable, ideal to rest, but every signal of sleep that could have gotten her disappears as she notices how Roy stretches the moment he feels the first ray of the sun on his face.

“For the Truth’s sake, Riza, close that curtain,” he murmurs, with that sleepy voice that always surprises her, mostly because it lacks of the usual sarcasm and humor that characterizes a fully awake Roy.

Riza counts the seconds before he realizes what it means.

“ _What?!_ ” The Alchemist stands up so fast that Hawkeye, from her place, is capable of hearing the « _crack_ » of his bones.

She counted to twelve seconds.

“Riza, I need you to open the curtains as much as you can. The windows if you want to, but do something!”

His hands are trembling and the woman hurries to accomplish the orders of her superior, who opens his eyes a little bit more as he looks the silhouette of the person that has accompanied him for more than a decade, in his worst and best times.

And Roy stands up, throwing himself towards Riza and hugging her as hard as he can with his arms full with white scars.

Is then when he cries and a lump is formed in the sniper’s throat.

“I thought I would never see your face again,” he says between sobs, “that I would have to stay with the image of you, bleeding on the floor and _dying_ and, for the Truth’s sake, Riza, are those eye bags?”

Mustang’s fingers touch her skin over and over again, while he stares at her frantically, trying to memorize every aspect of the woman.

Carefully, she returns the man to the hospital bed, trying to not scare him, and sits besides him.

“Roy, calm down, I’m okay,” she smiles, taking one of his hands and placing it on her neck, where an almost invisible scar will stay there for the rest of her life, leaving him study it.

The tears have stopped and she wants to say something to assure Roy that she’s there for him, but he kisses her on the lips, closing his eyes, and the memory makes her feel nostalgic.

It’s the second time they have kissed in all those years knowing each other, but it’s absolutely different from that experiment they did before he went to the academy.

“I need—” he breathes after a few seconds full of butterfly kisses, resting his forehead against Riza’s, brown eyes encountering dark ones. “I need you to be my First Lady.”

Riza feels her world spinning and her heart beating fast, constant in her ears. The adrenaline runs in her veins and she—she remembers that the last time she felt like that was when she killed for the first time.

“Of course I will, sir,” Riza mumbles after a moment of silence, smiling at Roy with fondness, thumb caressing the skin where the beard is now starting to grow.

Steps are beginning to sound from the hallway and there’s no need to have a super hearing to know that is Mustang’s unit, probably thrilled to know if Roy would be the same as before—with sharp eyes full with knowledge and mockery.

“ _But you’ll have to wait until you turn into Führer._ ”

“Yeah, yeah, I imagined that.”

  

* * *

 

When parties are celebrated, is common for them to go together; their companions have grown accustomed to it and say nothing about the way Roy’s eyes linger a few more seconds on the Major Hawkeye’s face.

Probably because of that no one says a word about the man that has approached Riza while Roy is searching for something to drink, mistaking her by some gorgeous and solitary woman that he can compliment as much as he wants.

“Ladies like you shouldn’t be alone in a table,” says the guy, winking at her, and Riza resists the urge of sighing. It’s disgusting the way he looks at the cleavage of her dress.

“I’m sorry, but I’m not alone,” she replies, legs crossed and hand hovering over the weapon she has for safety reasons, knowing that the man is trying to approach slyly to her knee.

“Of course you aren’t alone! I’m here with you, sweetheart!”

Riza wants to shoot him on the foot, but they’re at a party—a very important one, since the people present could be a boost to Roy’s public image—, so she can’t afford that.

 “Oh my God, Mustang is coming, Falman do something!” Fuery is the one who talks in the table next to Riza’s, with raised eyebrows and scared eyes behind the glasses.

Riza knows what’s coming. So does Falman.

“Then, precious, why don’t we go to a more private pla—” A flame comes from behind, burning neatly the man’s hair, who gets scared instantly and flees, possibly to hide in the bathroom. 

Riza has to admit that she expected a lot of things, but not _that_.

“Wow, what a discourteous gentleman!” Roy mumbles, with faked sadness, as he gives Riza a glass of champagne. He has gloves on, but those are just an esthetic choice. Roy doesn’t need them anymore. “It’s a shame.”

“Brigadier Mustang, _behave_ ,” The blond woman spits with the tone that she uses to scold, glaring at Roy.

“But Hawkeye, his eyes were going to pop out from his skull looking at your cleavage!” Roy sits and Riza tries her best to ignore him.

“ _Roy, if you show those jealousy attacks again, I swear you’re going to be the one I’ll shot._ “

“Riza, I am _not_ jealous,” The Alchemist speaks softly, as to assure that only Hawkeye is listening to him.

(Fortunately, Falman and Fuery did a good job covering their boss, and the people were too busy talking between them to notice what happened.)

“ _I won’t repeat it again_.”

“I’m sorry, Major Hawkeye.”

“Okay, now go and apologize to the man. He’s probably crying in the bathroom, so hurry up.”

  

* * *

 

When Mustang turns into Führer, Riza dismisses the military; she doesn’t say anything about her motives, but a few ones know why and congratulate Riza when they’re alone.

She keeps working at the office in Central, but as a secretary, and Roy finally marries the only woman capable of making him sign papers for a complete hour in a private, little wedding.

It isn’t necessary for Riza to admit that she loves to see Roy’s face every morning, touching with her hands the scars in his skin—mostly the one that stayed after the fight against Lust—, and she knows it.

She also knows that Roy will never confess that he adores to see her back, where the transmutation circles are tattooed and only a few parts were burned by the hands of the man she loves.

They don’t bother on hiding the fact that they’ve gotten married; after all, the only changes are the rings on their fingers.

And it’s two weeks later that the team working in the office next to the Führer’s one notices it.

(Also, is Fuery, so Riza isn’t precisely surprised.)

It happens when she’s giving the paperwork and the brief shine of the ring catches the eye of the boy, whose glasses slip down the bridge of his nose while he repairs another radio.

“Hawkeye, um, is that, uh, a wedding ring?” he asks, looking perplexed, and Riza sees the ring in her left hand, ignoring the fact that Havoc is staring at her, the ashes of his cigarette falling onto the papers with a brief « _plop_ », and that Breda almost crashed down from the chair where he was swinging.

“Yes, it is,” she answers, leaving a pile of paperwork on Breda’s desk.

When Riza thinks of leaving, Roy enters to the office, exclaiming something about how he needs «a place where to rest», only to find Riza’s cold eyes and the baffled expressions of the rest of his team.

Then they notice the same ring on Roy’s finger and Havoc’s cigarette falls to the floor, just as Breda.

“Hawkeye is married to the Führer?!” Kain drops the screwdriver, seeing Roy smiling proudly at the same time he walks towards the exit and Riza nods, holding her husband in place.

“The fact that I’m the First Lady doesn’t mean I won’t give you more work,” she squints at them and turns to see Mustang. “Also, Roy, I don’t understand why you’re here. I’m pretty sure I gave you lots of paperwork ten minutes ago.”

Roy swallows hard and allows himself to get dragged out of the office, hearing the Pandemonium that happens when they close the door: Fuery is babbling as he calls Falman, Breda tries to find an explanation and Havoc screams, indignant: « _They didn’t invite me to the wedding!_ »

 

* * *

 

“The other day I was checking my things and I fould this,” Roy murmurs, sitting on the sofa in the hall, Riza besides him and Black Hayate sleeping on the other couch.

Riza’s face softens as she recognizes the old photo of Elicia that Roy found in his pockets so many years ago, laughing a bit as she takes it between her fingers carefully.

“Maybe this photo gave you all that luck,” The woman says, resting her head on the Führer’s shoulder, a brief silence in the mansion.

The mansion is too big for a couple, two dogs and their three puppies.

“It’s probable, Riza.”

Roy’s fingers wander between the blond locks and after a few seconds, Riza talks again.

“I’m thinking of cutting my hair again.”  
“Yeah?”

She hums softly.

“Like when you were a teenager?”

“Exactly.”

“Then it’s perfect.”

“Really?”

“I wouldn’t lie to you, Riza.”

“ _Reminds you when I didn’t know how to use a weapon?_ ”

“Definitely.”

 

* * *

 

Riza isn’t a woman that has only  made good decisions; her dreams turned into nightmares, where she’s the monster and is incapable of protecting Roy; her hands were stained with the blood of others; her morals crashed like a crystal vase, and her neck is now marked with a scar that will never fade.

Those mistakes, though, allowed Riza to learn and get better with every step; they showed her that even the death of a friend could be valuable, despite the fact that it hurt; they taught her that sacrifices are necessary; they made her understand that, sometimes, rules needed to be defied.

At the end, she doesn’t regret any of the decisions she made on the way, because every morning Riza feels Roy’s hands on her hips, his soft breathing on her neck, as well as the warmth that reminds them both that they _are_ alive.

That’s enough for her, and she makes sure of saying it when she has the opportunity, through kisses shared when no one is looking; when Riza fixes his tie before parting ways; when she comes to his office leaving paperwork, and when Riza smiles at Roy, softly and with love written all over her face.

And Roy always smiles back—sometimes sly, sometimes honest and relaxed—, perfectly understanding Riza’s silent messages.

 

**Author's Note:**

> If you want to, you can see this as a Soulmate!AU where you are capable of reading your soulmate’s mind or something, idk


End file.
